


Multiplying the Good, Dividing the Evil

by subjunctive



Category: Once Upon a Time in Wonderland (TV)
Genre: Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Missing Scene, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1570193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjunctive/pseuds/subjunctive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After she's agreed to help him retrieve his heart, Alice indulges her curiosity about this Knave character.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Multiplying the Good, Dividing the Evil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



> For your prompt "Characters speculating (in their own minds or to others) about motivations/feelings of other characters."
> 
> The title comes from Balthasar Gracian, who said that "True friendship multiplies the good in life and divides the evil."

Alice poked the dying fire with a stick, knowing that it wouldn't do anything but unable to do _nothing._ It had been a very long day, as they had put quite a lot of hiking behind them, but somehow she didn't much want to sleep or rest. Instead, she felt her blood thrumming with the possibility of action. They were very near their goal, and the excitement of observing and making a plan earlier that evening had sent her heart all a-pitter-patter.

Whether the Knave felt the same way, it was hard to tell. Alice chanced a look across the fire. He was staring into the fire, seemingly unaware of her gaze on him. His face looked like it had been carved out of wood, it was so still and blank. Except that Alice had seen wood figurines that were _more_ expressive than this Knave, and almost laughed aloud at the thought. Fortunately, she stopped herself just in time.

Still, he must have seen something out of the corner of his eye, because he looked up directly at her.

"Nice night?" she tried.

The Knave glanced around in a cursory way, as though he were indulging her. There were only trees and evening sky and the flora of Wonderland to see in all directions - nothing she was sure he hadn't seen before, even if it was still wondrous to her. "Sure, the weather's fine."

Besides his amusement, it was difficult to get a read on him. And Alice was curious - she had begun to think of it as her defining feature. It might be constantly be getting her into trouble, but it had also found her the most wonderful things as well. So she couldn't help but offer, "Must be awful living without a heart," just to get something out of him. Then she winced internally. Perhaps not the ideal way to get someone to open up.

He looked - well, not offended, there was that. Still so strangely blank, though, as though the question didn't affect him at all. There was almost something _more_ disturbing about that response - or rather the lack of it.

He shrugged the question off. "S'not so bad, really. Inconvenient, that's for certain."

Inconvenient. Alice thought about his choice of words. Not painful, or empty, or something like that. Just "inconvenient."

"Because of how other people can control you if they have it. Like the Queen of Hearts."

This earned her a nod, then a thoughtful look. "Course, that's what hearts do anyway, isn't it?"

A bit shocked, Alice was silent for a moment. It was as though he thought that love was nothing more than slavery. How awful. She tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible as she spoke. "Is that what you really think?"

She hadn't managed to keep all the incredulity out of her voice, it seemed, because the Knave looked annoyed. "S'all right, like I said. I ain't suffering."

The lack of a heart _would_ preclude that, Alice supposed. Leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands, she threw caution to the wind. "It's not strange? I can hardly imagine what it would be like."

Again, he shrugged. Was the question making him uncomfortable? It was hard to tell. "It's not anything, really." His expression seemed open; she thought, strange as it was, that he wasn't lying to her or hiding anything from her. Yet what he was saying was unfathomable. Did he mean that he experienced no difference, or that he felt nothing at all, like an automaton? Was it just love that was kept from him, or fear, and anger, and concern? Friendship? But she had no way of asking those questions that didn't sound dreadful, so she stayed quiet, her mind whirring.

His brow furrowed in the dimming firelight; he seemed to be thinking something over. "Have you ever been in love?" he said suddenly.

What a personal question - and as though it was relevant to the discussion at hand! Still, if there were one thing Alice wasn't afraid of, it was honesty. "No," she said with her chin held high and her gaze direct.

The Knave didn't bother to hide his laughter at her defensiveness. Still, she was strangely pleased that she was able to draw at least that much of a reaction from him, even if it was at her own expense. "Wasn't trying to offend you," he assured her. "Just trying to explain. That makes it harder, I suppose."

"Explain what?" If her tone was a bit cross, so be it.

However, the Knave didn't seem to notice. "Love's great and all, at least from what I remember anyway, but it can be awful too."

In Alice's occasional fantasies, love had always been - something more wonderful than _that_ , surely. A perfect meeting of hearts and minds, an escape from mundanity to the fantastic, an entry into a new life. Not unlike her own entry into Wonderland. But perhaps it wouldn't hurt to get another perspective on the matter. "How do you mean?"

"Well, what if you love the wrong person?" His tone was entirely too reasonable and even; Alice couldn't help but shiver, despite the warmth of the dying fire. He sounded like a tutor preparing a student for an examination, not someone who had ever been in love himself. "If you make the mistake of trusting them? If the person you love turns out to be awful? Evil, even?"

"Doesn't ..." Alice curled her arms around her knees. "Doesn't true love mean that - that you can help make each other better people?"

" _Can_ isn't _will_ ," he returned, prodding the fire himself. He was not looking at her. "Don't make that mistake, Alice."

"Did you?" The question was out before she could stop it.

At her question, he looked irritated, but nothing more serious than that. "And not all love is true love, either. But that don't make it not love. And when things go south, then what have you got? A broken heart, that's what. Just as broke as any old heart."

In her own heart, Alice knew he was wrong - or at least that what he was describing wasn't the whole truth. It was just because he didn't have his heart that he couldn't see the whole picture, she reasoned. Another good reason to get it back for him. She yawned, covering her mouth.

The Knave noticed. "I'll take first watch, if you like," he offered. "Not tired yet, myself. The possibility of danger keeps me up, I suppose. I'll wake you if there's any sign of trouble. Somehow I get the feeling a girl like you don't want to miss out on the action." He grinned at her, and it was rakish and charming. She couldn't help smiling back.

Alice arranged her pack as a pillow. She certainly hadn't gotten all of her questions answered, but perhaps that was all right. Still, she couldn't resist one more as she laid down, making sure her scabbard was within arm's reach. "So one of the consequences of losing your heart is that you can't be in love. That seems obvious. Can you be friends with someone, though? As in, can you care about their well-being, want to protect them from danger, that sort of thing?"

She heard a chuckle. "You applying for the position, love? If you're worried I'll just let the Jabberwocky eat you or something, you don't have to. I rather like you."

A wave of sleepiness tugged at her eyelids. "Not what I meant," she mumbled. "I mean - I think we could be friends."

She didn't quite hear his reply - she thought it might have been _aye, that we could_ , but perhaps that was only wishful thinking - and instead closed her eyes and began to drift off, content in the knowledge that she was quite safe.


End file.
